Aberystwyth Medical Gothic
by Urwen
Summary: A Hellsing and Yami no Matsuei crossover. A mysterious communique calls Hellsing out to a medical conference held in a jolly Welsh coastal town, to keep an eye on a certain dastardly doctor. Sorry about my awful Japanese, Welsh and writing in accents.
1. Seaside Holiday

Seaside Holiday 

_In which Sir Integral receives an unusual missive and Alucard and Seras are dispatched to Wales, changing at Shrewsbury and Birmingham New Street due to the deplorable state of British Railways._

It was morning in the home counties. The birds sang. A light breeze whispered through the branches of the trees. The sound of gunfire echoed in the morning air, startling Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing out of a pleasant dream in which she was grinding the severed heads of vampires into the dust of a desert with a spike-heeled boot. Absurd, really. She wouldn't dream of wearing spike-heeled boots. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and squinted at the morning sun streaming in between the curtains, before feeling around on the bedside table for her glasses and sliding them onto her face.

There was a knock at the door. Walter was demonstrating his formidable butler's sixth-sense for knowing when the mistress has awoken.

'Come in.'

Walter entered, carrying a tea tray with a light breakfast of a grapefruit segment, some buttered toast and a pot of marmalade shaped like a humorous cow, also the morning's copy of the Independent and the post.

'Good morning, milady.' He said, unfolding the little legs on the bottom of the tray and placing it sedately across Integral's lap.

'Good morning, Walter. What time is it?' Integral asked, sleepily.

'Half past seven, milady.'

'Who in God's name is in the firing range at half past seven?'

Walter smiled a little and looked down. 'Punishment duty, milady. Some of the soldiers were found drunk on duty. I believe at a quarter-to they will be going on a ten mile run to Surrey Hill and back.'

'Hmm, quite right too.' Integral frowned, reaching for the letter opener. There were three letters. The first had a very thin, soulful-looking African child on the front. She opened it, read the contents and sighed, handing it to Walter. She opened the second. The notepaper was heavy, with elaborate crests and a watermark. 'The Marquess of Salisbury, Viscount Cranbourne DL cordially invites...'. Integral grimaced, tore up the invitation and handed the pieces to Walter, who took them graciously. She opened the last one. The letter bore the royal crest, as well as the MI5 crest ("regnum defende"). There were several sheets of paper. She read the first one.

"Sir Hellsing,

This was sent to us from somewhere in Civil Service, and sadly I can't tell you where (the usual score). They obviously want something defensive done about it, and I thought perhaps the matter should be passed on to you, as it's more your field."

It was signed by the current head of MI5. It was somewhat abrupt, but then the K's, as they were once known, and still known in some circles, often were. Integral put the first sheet down and read the second. It was also headed with the royal crest, but next to it were unfamiliar arms. It was headed 'Her Majesty's Government Department of Summoning ('Annwn')'. The paper was oddly light and insubstantial. It read:

'To whom it may concern;

Yesterday we received a message from our opposite number in Tokyo. It was garbled, but we think we have the gist of it. Normally we'd deal with this sort of thing, but the entity in question is not our speciality. We are not strictly equipped to deal with one of these, and if the Tokyo Office aren't exaggerating, which we doubt they are, he may be trouble. In fact, we suspect it may be worse, given the usual tendency of the Japanese to understate things. Hopefully you can forward this on to the relevant team.

Yours,

Cerys Evans.'

The plot thickened. Integral continued down the paper trail to the letter headed unintelligibly in Chinese characters.

'Related party,

To your greeting, and good fortune. Last week, we receive intelligence from inspection of that mail ill repute high offender Dr Muraki Kazutaka has left Japan for England on doctor business trip convention to 'University of Wales, Aberystwyth'. Muraki Kazutaka is the large powerful vampire and must be handled carefully. We thought best to warn the English governments. When handling this offender, the luck where are good to you.

Kindest regards;

Tatsumi Seiichiro, Secretary to the Honourable Chief Konoe.'

Integral tried not to laugh as she read the letter. She looked up at Walter, stood patiently by the bed and handed him the letter. 'A medical conference. Hmm. This will require some preparation. Please inform Alucard and Seras that we are going to Wales.'

She then began spreading marmalade onto her toast.

* * *

'Perspectives in Cardiothoracic Transplantation: AGM of the British Transplantation Society (BTS).' 

Said the blackboard in the briefing room. Obviously in a metaphorical sense, as blackboards don't speak. However, if indeed the blackboard had opened some creaky wooden mouth and spoken the words aloud, orating like the very oracle of Delphi, the words still would have made no sense whatsoever to either of the vampires looking at it.

Integral put the chalk down on the table, along with her notes.

'What?' Said Seras.

'Something medical.' Said Alucard, grinning, evidently at his amazing ability to recognise the word 'Transplantation'.

'Yes.' Integral nodded, tapping the black board with one of those nasty extendable metal pointers that look like you could use them equally as horsewhips or car ariels. 'We're going to the seaside.'

Seras brightened up.

'To a medical conference at the University of Wales.'

Seras sagged.

'We will be investigating a notorious foreign vampire who has entered the country, ostensibly to attend the conference. We will observe the vampire while he remains in the country. As long as he behaves himself, pay close attention to this Alucard, we will not cause an international incident by harming a foreign national. If, however, he attacks any person on British soil, we have authorisation to.. aha... "deport" him.'

Integral smiled, nastily. So did Alucard.

Seras looked puzzled. Then she smiled. 'Oh, you mean kill him.' Then she frowned again.

'Yes.' Said Integral. 'That is exactly what I mean. The conference begins next Wednesday and continues until the weekend. We, we being you two, two RAMC officers and I, will remain in the town, posing as personnel of the Walworth Territorial Army Field Hospital visiting the conference, keeping the vampire under surveillance. Report to Walter for further information and your train tickets. There's no point in taking the car, the A44 is apparently appalling this time of year. Dismissed.'

Integral closed up the pointer-thingy and placed it down on the table with some finality.

Seras raised her hand. 'Um...' She said.

'Yes?' Integral said.

'I don't know much more than basic first aid from when I was on the force.' Seras said. 'And master...'

'I admit saving lives has never been a forte of mine.' Alucard nodded.

'That's why I've requisitioned some RAMC officers . If either of you are questioned, explain that you are in training.'

Seras nodded and smiled. 'All right.' She said, brightly, obviously pleased at the chance of a nice break by the seaside.

'Any further questions? No? Good.'

"What've you got for me today, Walter?" Seras asked, flashing a toothy grin atHellsing's butler and jobbing armourer. "Depleted Uranium shells? Explosive tear gas grenades?"

Walter handed her a pistol.

Seras' face fell.

Walter smirked a little at her discomfort. "You think you can carry that great big cannon in public, Miss Seras?" He chuckled.

Seras looked to the side. "Well obviously not but mumblemumble."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." She inspected the pistol. Walter handed her a neat black suit, the sort of utilitarian thing worn by the military when in mufti, and a set of RAMC uniform.

"You get one of these delightful Swiss SIG SAUERS. If it's good enough for the rest of Her Majesty's Armed Forces, it's good enough for you. Although I would have preferred a Browning." He sighed, nostalgically. "Those days are gone.. This dear little thing has a 15-round box magazine in the grip and fires 9mm Parabellum rounds. Be careful, it has no separate safety catch, nor does it need to be cocked. There's an...hello gentlemen. "

Walter looked up. Seras looked past him. A pair of men had just entered the armoury, although perhaps "burst into" would be a better way to describe it. The taller of the two, a well built red head, perhaps 6 foot three or four, had the other one in a headlock and was noogieing him vigorously. The smaller of the two, dark-haired and swarthy-looking was wriggling like a netted herring.

"I'll gie ye whitfor, ye scunner." The redhead informed him. The other man stamped on his foot. This had no apparent effect other than to cause the redhead to squeeze tighter.

"ATTENTION!" Walter bellowed. The two men immediately sprang apart and stood smartly to attention. The redhead blinked, apparently wondering why his body had obeyed the command without checking first with Mr Brain. Seras giggled behind her hand.

"Tha's got a fair loadout here, reet." The dark-haired fellow said, surveying Walter's collection on the walls.

"Present." Walter ordered, ignoring the compliment.

The Redhead went smartly to attention again. "Sergeant Simon Armstrong, that's me, and Sergeant David Graham, that's him, RAMC. Formerly of the King's Own Scottish Borderers, may they march forever and tae the de'il wi Westminster. In Arduis Fidelis an' all that. Reportin' for duty. An' guns."

"Oh aye." The dark-haired one said. He looked about five foot nine and had startling green eyes with black rims to the irises. "Guns. Which as RAMC we are obviously on'y allowed t'use in self defence, like."

"S'right."

Walter regarded the curious and rowdy pair of medical officers. "I was informed of your coming. Your sidearms and civilian clothes are over there.

They availed themselves of accoutrements.

"Cheers."

"Ta muchly. Och, could ah no have a blue tie? Green doesnae go well wi ma hair, ye ken?"

"Certainly not. Miss Victoria, if you could take the Sergeants to the car and we shall depart for Crowthorne Station shortly. ."

* * *

As the 10:45 to Reading pulled out of the little station into green fields, Seras watched a column of exhausted soldiers jog out of Bracknell Forest. She waved, cheerfully. No-one noticed. She looked around the train carriage. Alucard was apparently dozing under a military cap. He wore TA fatigues, and somehow managed to make the thick green woollen sweater look stylish, yet fascinatingly dishevelled. Integral was deeply engrossed in a book on medical cardiology. Sergeants Armstrong and Graham managed to sit still for about half an hour then started ribbing each other mercilessly. Integral shot them evil looks and muttered something about how she couldn't even trust the RAMC to send her decent personnel. 

They got off at Reading and waited half an hour for a train to Birmingham New Street. At Birmingham New Street (which is not the prettiest of stations, although admittedly not as bad as Milton Keynes), having missed their connection, they waited another hour for a train to Shrewsbury, which is a much more picturesque place, and so they stopped for lunch and a brisk walk around the walls there, mostly so Integral could work off her fury at the state of the public transport. Over lunch, Seras noticed Alucard casting occasional glances at the two Sergeants and grinning. Seras hoped he wasn't thinking about making a snack out of them. They certainly looked young and strong and healthy...

She wiped a little saliva away from her chin and pretended to take a sip of coffee. Armstrong flirted with the waitress. Integral treated him to another icy glare.

They returned to the station in time to see the next train to Aberystwyth chuffing away. Integral looked like she was about to have an apoplectic fit. Fortunately they only had to wait fifteen minutes, and soon they were leaving Shropshire behind for Powys and eventually thundering through the tunnels and across the lovely, picturesque and above all, wet, valleys of Ceredigion.

"This ain't alf the arse-end of no-where areet." Graham said, as they crossed a tributary of the Dyfi and paused for ten minutes at a station that consisted of a sign, twenty-foot length of platform and one extremely bored-looking sheep.

"Whit're ye talkin' aboot, whin ye're frae Northumbria yersel? Wheesht yer noise." Armstrong quipped back. Graham punched him playfully.

Seras chuckled behind her hand. Armstrong winked at her.

Some time later,

"We will shortly be arriving at Aberystwyth. Aberystwyth is the last station stop for this service."

The driver announced.

"Oh, thank God." Integral breathed, and got up. Alucard politely offered her her suitcase, although no-one had seen him take it down from the luggage rack. She accepted it graciously. Seras retrieved her bag from under the seat and they all piled off the train onto the platform.

Outside, it was cold, and it was still raining. A fresh, icy, sea breeze blasted off Cader Idris, picked up a concentration of salt from Cardigan bay and whipped them all repeatedly round the face with it, before whooshing off again.

Integral extracted a piece of paper from her notes. The wind tried to steal it, but she was having none of that.

It said:

"Belle Vue Royal Hotel The Promenade, Marine Terrace, Aberystwyth."

She pointed down the road ahead of them.

"To the seafront!" She announced.

"And don't spare the horses." Alucard also raised a finger.

"Shut up." Integral snapped, shivering.

They headed for the seafront.


	2. It Doesn't Rain Like This in Kyoto

It Doesn't Rain Like This In Kyoto 

_In which we meet the odious Dr Kazutaka Muraki, lectures are attended, and it rains a lot._

Blissfully ignorant of the trouble the British Government was going to on his behalf, Dr Kazutaka Muraki stood at the end of the Aberystwyth Royal Pier, leaning on the railings and gazing into the grey-green waters of the sea. The wind from up on Cader Idris played nervously with his white coat and fine silver hair. The murky waters, reflected in his strange doll-like mirror eyes, churned and swirled. He smiled at them, gently and breathed in the salt breeze, that thick, sharp smell of ozone that was the same the world over, here and home and everywhere between. Out here on the end of this "pier", one could see only sea and sky, and believe oneself floating alone between the two.

How curiously typical of the British to produce such a thing, a great metal jetty planked in wood, thrusting out into the wild sea, and then to put gaudy flashing amusement arcades and little teashops on it and fish off the end of it with rods. Such a Victorian gesture of polite defiance in the face of the forces of nature.

They had invited him here! _Invited _him!

Still, it was good to get away from the hotel. He was getting sick of being stared at, despite that fact that practically everyone here was nearly as white as him. Sometimes it made him want to wring their necks until their rudely staring wide, childish eyeballs popped right out and dangled by their optic nerves.

But that would be impolite. After all, he had been invited here. He was a guest.

A huddle of rainclouds swept south from the Irish sea and began quietly dropping water on his head. The fishermen donned rubber hats. Dr Muraki wrapped his coat around him, straps flapping and headed back down the pier.

"That funny looking fellow's off now, look you." Said one of the fishermen, watching his retreating back.

"All sorts of queer folk in town for the big doctors' conference, see." His neighbour commented, noncommittally. "Seen all sorts today."

"So long as they don't scare the fish." The original fisherman said. His neighbour nodded.

* * *

"Here are your room keys." Integral said, handing them out. "Miss Victoria and I are in 33, you three gentlemen are in 34. There are no lectures this evening, they begin tomorrow. For the time being, feel free to explore the town and see what you can find." She put a little extra emphasis on the last few words, indicating subtly that they were to go on reconnaissance. "Dinner is at eight, if you wish to eat here. I intend to spend the evening reading in my room, and will be very unhappy if I am disturbed after midnight." She looked at them pointedly.

"Permission tae speak, ma'am?" Sim asked.

"Granted." Integral nodded.

"Wh'is oaf duty nae, like?"

Alucard grinned. Integral raised an eyebrow.

"Pardon?"

"'E Means, can us go down t'pub?" Davie explained.

Integral's eyebrows raised further. "The pub?" She looked briefly confused. "Yes.. yes, I suppose so. People talk in public houses. Yes, go ahead. I assume I don't have to tell you to drink responsibly."

Sim and Davie grinned at each other. "We's the very soul 'o moderation, ma'am." Sim touched his forelock to her, a gesture so archaic as to be practically extinct.

"Eh, red eyes." Davie addressed Seras Victoria. "Ye and the big lad comin'?"

"Um.." Seras glanced at Alucard. "All right." She nodded.

Alucard moved his head in the negative. "Forgive me my rudeness, but I would prefer to take a little walk around this delightful seaside town, which reminds me so of another such town of my acquaintance."

"Suit yersel'" Sim shrugged, and the two of them practically dragged Seras Victoria to the door, leaving Alucard and Integral standing in the foyer of the Belle Vue with only a large spotted cactus for company.

Integral frowned. Something had been nagging at her for a minute or so now.

"They don't seem very bothered about the fact you two have red eyes."

"I do not think they are the kind of people to be bothered about much at all." Alucard shrugged. "You will not join me for a walk, Mistress?"

"No, thank you." Integral replied politely, extracting "Cardiovascular Physiology, 3rd Edition" from her luggage. "I've just got to Starling's Law of the Heart and it's all very fascinating. I believe I shall sit down with this and a nice cheroot."

Alucard swept a flourishing bow to her and swirled out of the hotel foyer. Integral repaired to the bar overlooking the bay.

Dr Muraki ambled northwards down Marine Terrace, enjoying the sea air and the sunset over the bay. He smiled benevolently as a couple of boys whizzed past him on skateboards. Across the road he vaguely noticed two large men and a huge-breasted blonde woman left a hotel and headed into the town. Shortly afterwards, a tall man in a battered sweater followed them out of the door and went off in a different direction.

Muraki's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He could sense something, but he didn't know what it was. Some, wild, furious unknown western ki, exotic and with the potential for deliciousness.

He followed.

Meanwhile, Seras, Davie and Sim ambled down Terrace Road, as the sun set behind them, and a gentle, but clinging rain soaked their hair and clothes.

"Whizzat?" Sim asked, pointing ahead of him, where a small crowd was gathering.

They proceeded towards the scene and peered (or in Seras' case, attempted to peer) over the crowd.

"Looks leek some feller's been glassed." Davie commented. "Blood all over the shop."

"Hadn't you better help him?" Seras asked.

Davie and Sim looked at each other.

"Er.."

"Um.."

"Wisnae we's s'posed tae be undercover?" Sim said.

"You're still doctors, aren't you?"

"Shus reet." Davie nodded.

"Ah, look." Sim said, pointing into the distance, where the blue lights of the Aberystwyth Ambulance Services, straight from Llanbadarn, flashed in the distance.. "S'an ambulance, but. Best let the boys in green handle it, eh?"

Seras nodded. It was probably better to let the paramedics deal with it than draw attention to themselves. At that point, they were accosted by a woman with a microphone and a thick welsh accent, as another woman with a camera pointed it at them from a distance.

"Excuse me, Gwyneth Jones, _Yr Angor_. Did you see the incident? Cerys, get over here with that thing." She beckoned to the camera woman. "The victim seems to have been stabbed repeatedly in the throat. How do you feel about that?"

The first word that came to Seras' mind was, unfortunately, "hungry". She refrained from saying anything.

"Bugger off, ye vulture." Davie spat, glaring at the reporter.

"Aye." Sim punched his hand, suggestively.

"We don't like journos. Meddling lot, yeknaa." Davie said, pointedly, backing away from the camera. "Always pokin' theys noses in wur t'aint wanted." He turned around and walked off. Sim and Seras, slightly bewildered, followed. They turned the corner into the ominously named, but really rather cheerfully lit, Great Darkgate Street. Something occurred to Seras.

"Er, Sim is it?"

"Aye, lass."

"That journalist said something about throat wounds. I think this might be something to do with the person we're supposed to be keeping an eye on."

"Ye're a sharp one. I wuz wonderin' the same thing, aye, Davie?."

"Aye." Davie scratched at his ear, pensively. "Bain't got nuffin fer proof yet though. Best keep an eye out."

Seras nodded. "I suppose so." She wondered briefly what sort of medical officers would understand about that sort of throat wounds, but decided they had probably been debriefed.

"Reckon as how we can do that reet well in that there pub." Davie agreed, pointing to a red-painted building across the street. "Last one in's buyin'."

There was something of a scuffle after that.

* * *

The welsh wind was stronger still up on Constitution Hill, looking south over the bay. Alucard stood with his hands in his pockets looking out over the sea and remembering a little seaside town on entirely the other side of the isles, where he had made such a splendid entrance. He grinned quietly to himself. Ah, to be alone in a high place when the wind is blowing from cold northern lands, across the mountains and the forests.

But of course, he wasn't alone. Someone had been watching him silently for the last ten minutes, standing clearly in the open, but behind his back. Someone who didn't know that not only was Alucard extremely sensitive to his environment, but that he had eyes in the back of his head. Literally. Whenever he felt like it.

He opened one of them now and stared, but was unfortunately not rewarded with a quiet gasp of horror, but instead with a little chuckle.

The white man walked towards him, hands in his pockets, smiling gently, his countenance peaceful. He shone like an angel in the last of the afternoon sunlight and watched Alucard through slitted eastern eyes.

"Gudo afterunoon." He said. "Or is it eveningu now?"

"Somewhere between." Alucard replied. "Doctor Muraki, I presume?"

Muraki tilted his head, politely intrigued. "Sa.. you have advantage of me."

"A state of affairs which I intend to prolong." Alucard turned to face the white man. "Believe me. What are you doing here?"

Muraki smiled and looked into the distance. "Ah, you western bampaiyaa, you have no subtlety. I am looking forward to discourse, argument, poeturi of two aduerusaries dance. Instead you are stureto to point. 'Uwhat aru yuu doingu hiru'. Uwhere isu subteru intaplay, purease?"

"It is a simple question. I am not averse to interplay, but do not think I will mince about like a effeminate fool. You will answer or you will die." Alucard inclined his head equally politely.

"Sa.. if it musto be so. I am inbited here. To doctor conference of Cardiosoracic Transprantation. It is speciaru field of mine and my professor Satomi-kyouju."

"Invited? You surprise me, that you obey such rules."

"Rules? What rules? Rules of politeness, zisu I obey. Not to walk into house of another wizuouto inbitashion. Peruhaps you have not zisu where yu come furom? Who can expekuto grace and honour furom such suraveringu wildo animaru."

Alucard's eyes narrowed at the insult, but he smiled a little as well. He knew a challenge when he heard it. "Is it true what I hear, that in the east you are too frightened to get your hands dirty touching fresh blood, and will sip only daintily like a woman from the life of a human?"

Muraki's smile faded. "Of coursu. And is it true also zat yuu of za westo musto slashu rike a beasto at youru bictim ando guzzuru at za open woundo rike a young kyuuketsuki onry just from za gurabu?"

"Of course."

They glared at each other for a little while longer.

"Emasculated lily-man."

"Dizugasting rumbering bearu."

"Bleached albino weakling."

"Supawn of za roins of an oguru."

They glared for a little longer, both smiling ominously. The air fairly crackled between them.

Then Alucard threw back his head and began to laugh, a bellowing, hollow, mouth-open-as-wide-as-a-snake laugh. Muraki smiled back, with a hint of confusion behind his silver eyes.

"I like you, strange pretty white man." Alucard said, closing the distance between them with no apparent effort and clapping the doctor on the back heartily, making him cough a little. "We will go for a drink together!"

Muraki blinked and pushed his dislodged glasses back onto his nose. "I du not underustando. You wish to go to inn?"

"Absolutely." He said, confidentially. "It is a strange custom of the British to buy an alcoholic drink for an adversary who has fought well."

"Why izu zis?"

"I do not know. I wondered at first if they sought to stupefy the adversary with drink so that they could take revenge, but it seems that is not so." He dropped a comradely arm around Muraki's shoulder. "Come! Let us go to the pub!"

* * *

Meanwhile, at the sign of the Angel Inn, Great Darkgate Street, some serious hardcore carousing was going down. Seras sat at the bar staring at a glass of water, watching four doctors at the other side of the bar discussing hilarious things that happened during anaesthesis, and trying to ignore the very loud song Sim and Davie were singing over their Geordie Fighting Juice (or "Newcastle Brown Ale" as the rest of the population call it). It was a traditional regimental air and therefore naturally involved a young lady from Strathclyde who was rather over-fond of the local soldiery, much to the chagrin of her beloved father.

"An' she said tak yer piece, soldier-boy,  
An' gie us a hold o'the strong oaken stang,  
An' ah'll see ye hae a lively time..."

"And when we brought her round, she said she hadn't felt a thing!" The anecdoting doctor, a (smallish man with high cheekbones and a mop of dark hair) said. The other two laughed. Seras smiled to herself. The nearest doctor (who for some unknown reason was dressed in green and khaki combat fatigues) leaned over to her.

"You here for the conference?" He asked.

Seras nodded.

"With them?" He jerked a thumb at the inebriated RAMC officers.

Seras nodded again and concentrated, trying to remember the cover story. "We're from Walworth TA Field Hospital."

"Ah. Squaddies. Right." His companions laughed. "Can I buy you a drink? Another drink." The doctor asked.

Seras regarded him. He was young to middle-aged with mousy hair, relatively attractive, and not quite sober enough to notice the reddish hue of her eyes, or the predatory sharpness of her teeth, but clearly at exactly the right amount of inebriation to recognise the largeness of her breasts.

"Um... Ok, Yea.." She began.

Unfortunately she was interrupted by an almighty bellow which echoed around the pub, mercifully halting even the drunken tuneless singing of Sim and Davie (which was about halfway through the third verse, involving the local constable, three cows and a large marrow).

"POLICE GIRL!!"

Seras winced. "Oh no."

Everyone turned to look at the door. Seras tried, unsuccessfully to hide under the bar.

"Oh, aye, lanky!" Davie waved at Alucard. "Get yer arse over here, like. Haes'at with yer?"

Everyone stared as Alucard and his pale companion crossed the room, and then rapidly returned to their drinks when they met his gaze. There are some things the ancient monkey memory never forgets about glowing eyes and fangs. Then Alucard, clearly missing the obvious cliché, bought a pint of Guinness for himself and a slightly bewildered Dr Muraki. The barman seemed to relax a little, assuming that any otherworldly glowing creature prepared to down a pint of Guinness couldn't be all that otherworldly after all.

"Gentlemen, Police girl." He said, with the air of a man gleefully presenting something he knows you're all going to absolutely LOVE. "Meet Doctor Muraki."

Sim spluttered 20p's worth of mild all over the bar. Davie raised an eyebrow. Seras made a second, unsuccessful attempt to hide.

"Wisnae he the yin we wuz supposed tae be watchin'?" Sim asked, wiping his face.

Alucard, nodded, grinning.

Sim shrugged. "S'pose it's bloody easy to watch a feller when his standin' in front o'ye." He addressed Dr Muraki. "So. How're ye findin' ol' Blighty?"

Muraki looked up, realising he was being spoken to. "I do not underustand."

"Britain, how're ye findin' Britain"  
"He's asking what you think about Britain." Seras translated. "So far."

"It does not rain rike zis in Kyoto." Dr Muraki replied, sniffing at his pint.

"Oh aye, It doesnae rain like this aniwher else, either, like." Davie nodded.

"Ah. Yes." Muraki nodded. He took a sip of the Guinness, swallowed it and coughed. "It tastes rike...metaru."

"'Course it does. Bloody well Guinness, innit? Full o' iron!"

Alucard leaned over and spoke sagely into Muraki's ear. "There is no point trying to understand them. They are British."

Muraki nodded. "I see."

Someone across the room threw up in someone else's glass, and a bar fight began. The barman looked up from the glass he was stoically polishing.

"Bloody Doctors." He said.

Some time later, they left the pub, Alucard and Dr Muraki in silence, Seras trailing behind them feeling slightly sick for the one drink she'd actually consumed, damn vampire stomach, and Davie staggering a little behind propping Sim up, who was still singing raucously.

"And he lifted up his kilt about an inch soo they cuid seeee..." Etc. etc.

The streets of Aberystwyth were dark and mostly quiet apart from the drunken singing in various languages including but not limited to English, Gaelic, and Welsh. As they turned the corner onto the seafront, the tide was high, and the breeze from Cader had turned into an angry night wind. Large waves were smashing themselves against the sea wall, and scattering seaweed across the dark sand and pebbles. Absentmindedly, Seras directed her vampire hearing at the RAMC officers who had dropped back quite far behind them.

"Ah dinnae leek the lanky feller's tactics, ye knaa. Jest findin' the target and shaain' him tae all o' us. That's not hoo ye do it in the military. " She heard Davey say. "He knaas more'n he lets on."

"Och, ye're a worrier, Davie Graham. Dinnae fash yersel', this'll all be aver before long." Sim replied cheerfully.

"Canny be aver soon enough fer me, like. They're no natrel, with their red 'een."

"Lissen tae ye, makin' judgements on what's no natural. Who's black, eh, mister kettle?"

Knows more about what, Seras wondered. However, that point they came to their hotel, and were greeted at the door by Sir Integral, with a face like thunder. Very worried thunder. She glared at all of them as they approached her.

"You call this drinking sensibly?" She said, gesturing at Sim and Davie. "Never mind, that's not important. There has been... an incident."

"An incident?" Alucard raised an eyebrow.

Sir Integral nodded, and opened the large art-deco hotel door, revealing, in the foyer, a dead body, bleeding gently from the neck, surrounded by frantic hotel staff and interested onlookers.

"This sort of incident." She said. "Have you found our target?"

Seras raised a finger. "Yes, we have, he's right..." She looked around for Muraki. And then some more. And then some more. "Well, he was right here. He's disappeared."

Integral said nothing, but the expression on her face could have cut titanium.

"Impressive." Alucard conceded. "Very impressive."


	3. The Doctor Did It

The Doctor Did It 

_In which a dead body is found, and suspicions arise._

"Is there a doctor in the house?" One of the hotel staff, possibly a waiter said, in a spectacular display of ignorance as to the current guest list.

Hands went up all over the foyer. Someone ventured their medical opinion that it looked a bit late for anything they could do, and it didn't take a doctor to see that bloke was dead. At that point, sirens blaring, a police car pulled up outside the hotel and disgorged three uniform officers, and a pair of detectives, who pushed their way past Integral with barely an "excuse me" and into the foyer, and began asking questions.

Integral gestured to the others to follow her, and they skirted quietly around the small crowd and down a corridor into the empty sun lounge, a dull brown room with huge black windows open on the darkness, where the protestant knight sat down on a leather chair, slowly lit a cigar and took a few puffs, then looked up.

"Explain." She said, her eyes roving across the group. "Seras. Given that you're most likely to give me a full and coherent answer."

Seras looked around her for help. Eyes dropped, except for Alucard's which held their usual semi-permanent expression of mild amusement. "Well, er.. we went out for a drink."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that."

"And we were in the pub. And then Alucard walked in with Dr Muraki and we all had a drink together. And then we came back here. And there was someone dead."

"I beg your pardon." Sir Integral spluttered. "You all had a drink together?? You, and the man we're supposed to be watching, all had a drink together."

"It wis only eh wee drink." Sim said, pinching his fingers together.

"The size of the drink, Sergeant Armstrong, does not concern me in the slightest. You bloody fools. What do you think you're playing at?"

"Master, he knows nothing, I told him nothing." Alucard interjected.

"Well, he certainly knew enough to vanish the moment his crime was bloody well discovered, didn't he?!" Integral roared.

Alucard looked away from her, eyes slitted.

"I seem to remember telling you to observe the criminal. I do not remember telling you to engage in conversation with him, nor do I remember telling you to pop down to the local hostelry with him!"

Even Alucard shrank visibly at the force in Sir Integra's tone. She shook her head to dispel her rage, and the held up a conference schedule.

"Whilst you were out making idiots of yourselves, I was doing a little investigation. Your drinking chum is giving a lecture tomorrow at 10am, on the Cardiovascular Implications of In Vitro Organ Engineering, which will require our presence. Now get to bed immediately. I expect you up at eight sharp for breakfast." With this, Sir Hellsing stormed out of the room.

There was a pause of a few minutes while no-one looked at each other, and Alucard chuckled softly under his breath.

"Well, bugger me sideways." Davie exclaimed. "I think she bust me eardrum."

"Ne'er hae I seen such a shrieking cailleach." Sim agreed.

"A what?" Seras asked.

"My master is a mighty woman." Alucard said. "Who worries too much over little things. I look forward to meeting the white man again. In battle!" He held up clenched a fist.

"Yer mental." Davie told him.

Alucard fixed him with a stare like the fires of the eternal kingdom of the damned and then threw back his head and laughed, and rattled the light fittings as he did so.

"YES!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!"

* * *

The hour of eight dawned, fresh and bright with the sun reflected from the sea, and the morning sun pierced the curtains and caused groans. Alucard, who obviously hadn't slept, but instead sat on the third bed in the room idly reading one of Integra's cardiology textbooks, grinned quietly to himself at the noises. The book was really very interesting, especially from his perspective. The human circulatory system seemed to have so many tubes and valves that you didn't really notice when you were busy ripping most of it out to get at the sweet, delicious goodness inside. 

The door to the room opened a crack. Nobody had bothered to lock it last night. "Rise and shine!" Integra barked, poking her head in.

"Can't." Said a voice from under the covers. "Ah'm deid. Oh goad."

Alucard chuckled to himself. Integra stepped all the way into the room, making yet another mental note to have words with Colonel McGower about the sort of personnel he seemed to think it was entertaining to lend her, and proceeded to briskly remove the covers from the nearest bed.

"How in God's name you two ever made it to Sergeant, I shall never know. This sort of behaviour is absolutely unacceptable, and I shall be reporting you to your commanding officer, I assure you. Out!"

Sim sat up and clutched at his head, convulsively. "Aye, aye, ma'am."

"I expect to see you in the dining room in ten minutes." With that, she marched out of the room and shut the door behind her.

"Harridan." Davie said.

"My master is a woman made of steel, powerful and magnificent, and you are not worthy to lick her boots clean." Alucard announced, conversationally, over the textbook.

"I'll lick anythin' she likes if ah kin hae anaither half hour in baid." Sim said, pulling his socks on.

Alucard turned a page. "You will obey her will, creature of laziness."

"Oh aye."

Breakfast was a subdued affair, Integra steaming considerably more than her bowl of porridge, the Sergeants downing extremely strong coffee. Seras looking between them nervously, Alucard reading, nonchalantly. After a round of toast and marmalade, Integra pointedly laid down her butter knife.

"Now." She began, a little too sharply for _sotto voce_. "As I told you, this morning, your drinking companion, or rather, our subject of surveillance, will be giving a lecture on..." She glanced at the agenda in front of her. "...In vitro Cardiac Tissue Generation. Sergeant Armstrong and Alucard will be attending to keep an eye on him, hopefully a more effective one than last night. "Alucard looked up from his book with one independently moving aforementioned crimson eye. Integra returned the gaze with aforementioned steel. "Meanwhile Seras, Sergeant Graham and myself will be making some discreet investigations into last night's...incident..."

"Ye mean the murdair?" Sim asked, in a hushed voice.

"Yes, Sergeant. I mean the murder." Integra replied. "Doctor Muraki's lecture begins at ten. You have half an hour to get yourself into a more presentable state. The doctor is now fully aware that he is being watched so I expect he will be on his best behaviou..."

"Master." Alucard interrupted, placing the book on the table with a fish knife in the page he was reading. "The white man did not kill the one found dead last night. He cannot have, for that man had been dead no more than a quarter of the hour. I was well aware of the white man's whole presence at the time he had been killed. This does not prevent some minion of his or some remote power of his having done the deed, but I say to you that neither his hand nor mouth took the life of that man."

Integra whisked her napkin off her lap impatiently. "We can't rule out some sort of influence then. The murder was clearly vampiric."

"In that I agree." Alucard nodded. "It would be clear to a child."

At the use of the word "vampiric", Seras found herself involuntarily glancing at the sergeants, looking for . They didn't seem to have noticed, still hazed with an aura of hangover.

"Bit dodgy that oor jap feller went missin' straight afterwards, leek." Sergeant Graham said. "Bet ye he's got eh hand in it een if he wuz wi us t'ole time."

"S'ae team joab. He's goat some accompluss."

"Aye, reet as leek. Ah wuldn't trust him as fae as ah could throw 'im. Pass the sugar, love."

Seras blinked, realised she was being addressed and passed the sugar basin. Sergeant Graham deposited three heaped teaspoonfuls in his coffee.

Integra stood up and deposited a neatly folded napkin on the breakfast table. "Finish that quickly, Sergeant. You and Seras will be doing a sweep of the hotel and the surrounding area, making conversation with anyone who might have any information. I shall be offering my assistance to the manager in a more direct fashion in the hoping of gathering information that way."

"And nae chatting up the chambermaids while I'm havin' mah ears takked off, ye get." Sim warned.

Integra rolled her eyes and resolved once again to have a serious word with Colonel McGower about the quality of the personnel he kept. Alucard grinned, amusedly. Seras tittered behind her hand.

Sim yawned and checked his watch. It was five past ten and Doctor Muraki was fashionably late for his own lecture. He leaned over to Alucard, who sat on the next chair in an attitude of relaxed and unnaturally total stillness and whispered "Ye think he's gunnae skive?"

"Pardon me?" Alucard inclined his head in polite confusion.

"Ah said, dae ye think he'll shae up, air s'he keeping his haid dane?"

"He will come." Alucard said. "He is on his way."

Sim shrugged. "If ye say so. Say..."

"Be silent." Alucard said, evenly. "I understand little of what you say, and find less of what I understand remotely interesting. Be silent and wait."

"Oh aye. As ye like." Sim raised his eyebrows, faced the front and folded his arms, affrontedly. After another minute he became bored of doing that and glanced around him at the frowning and watch tapping physicians. Then he frowned himself. At the back of the room sat the two journalists from the previous night.

"Vultures." He muttered to himself. Alucard glanced in the direction he'd been looking and then smirked a little to himself.

Before any more abuse could be muttered, there was a commotion at the head of the lecture theatre and Dr Muraki swept in, wearing a crisp off-white suit and grey tie and smiling faintly, followed by a slightly flustered member of the conference staff. He waited patiently by the podium as his lecture title was announced. There was some mildly irritated, but mostly enthusiastic clapping as he took the staff member's place.

"I wiru begin with joke." He said.

He then proceeded to tell a complex medical yarn with a punchline that made absolutely no sense to Alucard whatsoever, but everyone else seemed to find hilarious. During the laughter, he took the opportunity to stare straight at Alucard and treat him to the very slightest of conspiratorial smirks, before launching into an equally long and complex lecture which seemed to be about growing hearts in glass tubes. Alucard decided he had no real opinion about this, since the hearts in question would probably not be still-beating and dripping blood, newly torn from the breast of a slain enemy. He sat, still as a corpse, eyes fixed on the white figure up on the stage whilst words like "apoptosis" and "cardiomyopathy" washed harmlessly over his head and Sim fidgeted on one side of him.

He was intrigued by this creature of the east who called him "lumbering bear", unsure of what sort of power he commanded, and eager to test it, and then to defeat him and taste the power as it flowed into him and added its curious foreign strength to his own. He would meet the white man in battle, oh yes. Soon enough. It was intended and right that he should test the power of this foreign creature that dared to challenge him with a little smile. His confidence would be shattered. Soon enough.

Meanwhile, Seras and Lieutenant Graham were investigating. Or rather, Seras was investigating and Lieutenant Graham was ignoring his friend's admonition against flirting with the chambermaids. Seras' subject of inquiry was, however, altogether less enjoyable. It was the hotel's receptionist, an extremely garrulous woman in her late thirties with an ill-fitting suit and lurid red nails which she picked at constantly while she talked. It hadn't taken much to get her to talk. Seras had hardly got further than "Good morning..." before the conversation had begun and hadn't really needed any vampiric persuasion skills to be steered gently towards tragedy.

"Ooh, awful, wasn't it and him all dead there and I said to Deirdre, him all dead like that and you'll never be getting that out of the carpet look you. "

Deirdre, apparently some sort of member of the cleaning staff, leaning over her mop bucket behind the reception desk, nodded solemnly. Reddish water sloshed around in the bucket, exuding the scent of old blood and bleach, utterly distasteful to Seras and, combined with the sight of the blood red nails clicking in front of her, a little nauseating. She listened for a few minutes more, gathering that any number of suspicious and possibly non-existent characters had been lurking around the hotel before the incident, before deciding that she was unlikely to glean anything useful from the receptionist.

"Well..." She began, then waited a couple of seconds for the receptionist to notice she'd spoken. "I'd better be off. Have to check in with... you know..." She smiled and turned away from the desk, then almost walked into someone behind her.

"Hullo." Said the khaki doctor from the pub.

"Oh, sorry!" Seras spluttered at the same time. "Oh, it's ...er..you."

The doctor grinned. "I don't think we had time to be introduced before your friends dragged you away. I'm Derek Davidson.."

"Seras Victoria."

"Victoria's rather a mouthful. May I call you Vicky?"

Seras blinked. "If you like. Um. Derek."

"See, nice and short." Said Derek, smiling winningly. Seras, however, was finding herself more interested in his neck than anything related to his face. Stupid mop bucket full of diluted blood. "Are you heading off anywhere or can I persuade you to fulfil our previous drinks engagement?" He asked.

It was possible, Seras thought, that he might have seen or indeed know something. Also, he was mildly cute. However, she was starting to be hungry and it might well be disconcerting to conduct a conversation with his neck. She forced herself to look up at his face, wearing an expression of patient interest.

"Okay." She said, smiling back and wondering if she would be able to keep a normal drink down.

"Shall we adjourn to the bar?" He extended a hand in that direction.

"All right." Seras agreed, and preceded him. As she did, Sergeant Graham turned and gave her an exaggerated wink, before returning his attention to the chambermaid, who affrontedly whapped him round the face with a dustcloth and marched off.

Sim fidgeted as the lecture theatre gradually cleared of people, including the two female journalists, who left followed by his glares. Alucard sat slumped in his chair watching the few people standing around Doctor Muraki asking him questions about his research. Sim looked at his watch.

"Cease your twitching." Alucard ordered. "I will speak with the white creature."

"Oh aye." Sim said, frowning. "Speak, is it?"

Alucard turned to him.

"Your presence is not required." He said, grinning "Scamper along if you will."

"Oh aye." Sim repeated. "Why noat?"

"There may be...crossfire." Alucard chuckled, fixing his eyes back on the doctor.

Sim shrugged and waved a hand. "Ach, ah wouldnae be a... an RAMC officer if ah wisnae used tae a bit ae crossfire."

At this point Dr Muraki had finally been left alone and was packing his briefcase. He showed no sign of noticing the pair sat half-way up. Alucard unfolded from his seat and stalked down between the seats to the aisle. As he walked, there was something not quite coherent about his form, as if it were blurring at the edges. He rounded the corner, just as Dr Muraki stood up.

"May I herupu you?" He smiled, politely.

"You may!" Alucard announced, in a voice like joyously amused thunder. "Meet me at the stroke of midnight upon the hill where we first met, and we shall test our strength against one another, creature of the Nighted East!"

Dr Muraki's smile faded and a dark cloud seemed to gather around him. Gone was the polite, smiling man of medicine and in his place stood a creature pale, deadly and elegant as a fine blade. He tossed his head, revealing a stark, staring bluish eye hidden beneath his fall of fine filigree hair, that winked at Alucard malevolently.

Sim slid back in his seat and wondered how long it would take him to bolt to the door.

"Midnaito?" Dr Muraki said, his brief aura of threat fading as if it was a little worried that it had shown too much too early. "Whai not immediatery purease?"

"That the sun will not sap your strength unduly." Alucard replied. His hair, which had been lengthening into something eldritch and full of its own horrific life, began to shrink a little.

Muraki laughed. "I do not fearu za san."

"Your eagerness does you credit!" Alucard roared, happily. "Let us to the hill then, in the full blazing light of the day!"

Sim looked out of the window. Outside it was a usually grey, overcast Welsh morning. "I think that's pooshin' et a bit." He muttered. He was interrupted by a raucous shriek of laughter from Alucard, who promptly shattered into flecks of some unknown black substance, which blasted through a ten foot window, hurling a rain of disintegrated glass onto the ground outside. Dr Muraki put a hand to his face and chuckled behind it, and then vanished in an ethereal glow and a rain of white feathers.

In the suddenly quiet room, Sim stood up and looked around. He wandered over to the blasted window and peered out of it. Then he wandered over to Dr Muraki's discarded briefcase, opened it and looked inside, finding sets of lecture notes in neat Japanese characters and English as it is written by the Japanese, every letter carefully drawn out.

He frowned.

"Bugger."

And up on Constitution Hill, while the town bustled below them, two figures coalesced out of the air. They were rapidly followed by another three, griffins roughly the size of small ponies which charged across the rain-wet grass and pounced as one for Alucard's throat. Great black wings of unknown matter swept them in to him and washed over their bodies, and blinded in the darkness of his being, they were torn free of flesh and blood leaving only bones and strips of skin.

Alucard semi-reformed himself over the shattered carcasses of Muraki's monsters. A mouth formed in the black mass and commanded:

"Try again! Try HARDER!"

Obligingly, Muraki put his hands together and muttered something in archaic chinese. Reaching out to command the creatures was difficult here, away from his native land in these strange soaking hills with their green and anciently rotting Ki, but nevertheless there was a crack of thunder and behind him stood, not the the glistening form of a Great Golden King Dragon as he expected, but a sinous red and green thing, scales dripping water and moss and shining unhealthily beneath in the greyish light. Muraki raised a hand towards his adversary in command. The dragon roared and blasted white-hot flame at Alucard, engulfing him in light. An unholy shriek pierced the hillside as if the seared ground itself cried out in pain and as the light faded, there was nothing left of the western vampire but a scattering of black ashes.

Muraki smiled, and reached up to pat the dragon on the nose, then dismissed it with a gesture into the ether. Then he looked down at the ashes of his challenger and laughed a little at the ashes blowing in the rising wind.

"Kawaisou desu." He smiled.

The ashes beneath his feet began to stir again, but this time there was no discernable wind. Muraki frowned.

The ashes began to rush in towards him, rearing and rustling, forming up and out of their centre, the sound of laughter emerged. Gleeful, joyous, roaring laughter.

"WONDERFUL! SPLENDID!" An enormous maw filled with sharp teeth cried.

Muraki stepped back. "_Nan desuka? Dare ga?_"

"Well you may ask! I would not expect you to know me, you ignorant creature of the east. I am the most famous, the most powerful, the greatest of my kind! I have devoured beings greater by far than you!"

Muraki, despite his anger and fear laughed again a little as realisation dawned. "Theru have been zose who carred me by youru namu. I never sought you could be rearu."

"It was an honour for you!" The mouth told him. "As it will be an honour for you to be consumed by me!"

"_Hai_." Muraki chuckled bitterly as the mass of black horror sank down upon him, teeth bared for the fatal bite. "Honouru indeed."

* * *

Integra put the receiver to her ear and dialled the number for Walworth. 

"Hello? Yes. This is Sir Hellsing. I'd like to speak to Colonel McGower please. Yes, if you would."

Pause.

"Hullo Colonel. Sorry to interrupt the drill. Oh. Yes, thank you. No, actually, it was them I wanted to speak to you about. I'm sorry to say Sergeants Graham and Armstrong have been most un...sorry...yes, Sergeants Graham and... There's no-one of that... You never got a chance to send me..."

Pause. A frown clouded Integra's brow.

"I see. Yes. No, don't worry about it. Some sort of misunderstanding, I'm sure. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."

She put the phone down, looking thoughtful.

And then suddenly, everything went dark.


	4. Showdown At The Aberystwyth Royal Pier

Showdown at the Aberystwyth Royal Pier

(with thanks to Tensai-chan for corrections)

_In which the true culprit is unmasked and what remai__ns of him unceremoniously sent to sleep with the piscine population of Cardigan Bay._

And yet to Muraki's suprise, doom did not fall upon him. Suddenly, Alucard reared back, shrinking back into his roughly human form. "My master ..." He said, and collapsed into a greyish mist, which blew away over the bay. Muraki watched, curiously as it flew out towards the pier.

* * *

In the hotel, Seras suddenly blinked. "Master?"

"What's the matter, lass?" Davie asked.

"My master is calling me." Seras said, a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

Just then Sim appeared in the hotel entrance clutching a briefcase.

"You're never gunna belie.." He began. Seras pushed past him on the way out of the building. "Hey..."

"Best get arter 'er." Davie shrugged.

* * *

"Release me this instant!" Integra demanded, once she felt herself dumped on wooden boards. Beneath her she could hear the sea gently washing and overhead the raucous cries of seagulls. A sea breeze ruffled her hair. She tried to get up, and put her obstructed hands down on something long, thin and hard. Was she on a boat? Whatever was obstructing her eyes was suddenly removed and she saw greyish daylight from under an overhanging board. Beneath her she could see whitewashed buildings, but on either side, the greenish sea. She looked down at the boards beneath her and noticed that the object under her hand was a human femur. She shrank away from it and the other bones surrounding it, before wondering if it would make a suitable weapon for braining her captor.

"You needn't think that'll be any use." A voice said, as if reading her mind. She looked up and saw a youngish-looking man in combat fatigues.

"What the devil?!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, hardly." The man replied, smiling and flashing sharp, white teeth. "So... the famous Integra Hellsing."

"You have the advantage of me." Integra said, tugging at the knots preventing her from freeing her hands.

"Most definitely." The vampire said, cheerfully. "Lucky me! I get to eat the infamous Integra Hellsing, the woman whose name is whispered with fear amongst vampires across the British Isles. You know, if I had a working heart, I probably would have had a heart attack when I saw your name on the guest register. Then I saw you smoking in the lounge and I thought "She doesn't look so terrifying." And I took my chance. And here you are. You needn't think you can get those knots loose."

Alucard! ALUCARD! Integra screamed, mentally, commanding with all the power her will could bring to bear. I demand your presence IMMEDIATELY. And, on the edge of thought, though it might have been wishful thinking, she felt a response.

The vampire in the combat fatigues reached down and tilted her head back, meeting her steely blue gaze. "It's damn surprising your pet vampires didn't spot me either, you know. Mind you, I do walk around wearing human pheromones and contact lenses, so I suppose that must be working quite well." He lifted her head further and bent over her neck. "You can probably scream if you like, no-one will hear you up here. It's windy on the pier."

But Integra didn't scream. She smiled, for in the distance, she could see a black cloud approaching, and over his shoulder, she could see a woman and another woman standing behind her holding a camera.

"_Tân_!" Cried the woman resting a hand on the vampire's back. He howled as flame sprang up across him and fell across Integra, who shouldered him off her. "_Llosga creadyr yr nos!"_ The woman spat. "Filthy revenant." She growled. "You all right, see?" She asked, turning to Integra.

"Fine, thanks to your timely intervention." Integra replied. "Would you mind terribly untying me and then telling me what's going on?"

The woman with the camera pocketed it and set to untying her. "Best let her know, Gwyneth." She said. Gwyneth nervously flexed her fingers and a little puff of flame spat out of them. Integra scrutinised her and noted something distinctly elfin about the little dark-haired woman and her slightly larger friend. "We're everso sorry, see. We would've told you what was going on, but the Borderers wouldn't let us get near you. Always hanging around, weren't they, Cerys?"

"Always." Cerys nodded, releasing Integra from her bonds and helping her get up. Integra massaged the life back into her chilled fingers.

"Carry on." She nodded.

"We're the local.. well, you could call us the spiritual police. _Cymru _is our jurisdiction. We're psychopomps. From Annwn."

Integra suddenly recognised the names and looked at Cerys. "You're the one who sent the communique to me via MI5?"

"Yes, that was me." Cerys smiled. "As I said in that, normally we'd have dealt with Doctor Muraki and got him out of the country pretty sharpish, but since he's a vampire and normally it's your Hellsing Organisation that deals with that sort of thing, we thought a joint effort would be better. Like Gwyneth said, we tried to get close to you, but Graham and Armstrong kept seeing us off."

"The interfering _cwnts_." Gwyneth snapped. "Stepping on our toes, walking around in our Cymru, just 'cause they wanted to meet the famous Alucard!"

"And is it Doctor Muraki, or the false Sergeants Armstrong and Graham who are responsible for my kidnapper, who incidentally while we've been chatting, is getting away?" Integra asked.

"No, this fellow is s...what?" Gwyneth turned sharply to see the vampire in combat fatigues beating a hasty retreat across the roofs of the pier buildings. "Cerys, stay with Sir Hellsing, I'll catch the filthy.."

"That will not be necessary, spirit of the dead..." Alucard said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "For the pitiful creature who dares lay a hand on my master will suffer the fate he deserves!! HAHAHAHAHA!"

And with that, he flew into the air, a great cloud of bats and plunged down after the speeding figure.

The fugitive vampire, hearing the chittering behind him, picked up speed, glancing back over his shoulder. It was this that caused him to almost run into the white figure which stopped him dead with a blast of power from an outstretched hand.

He balked and then recognised his assailant. "Hey, aren't you from the conference... help me, there's something after me..." He spluttered.

"Weak, pitifuru one." Muraki smiled. He would probably enjoy watching the destruction of this helpless animal. "Do you know za powar of za sing you have angered?"

Seras appeared over the edge of the roof, still slightly glazed, muttering "Master..." She spotted the vampire and seemed to snap out of her stupour. "Derek?"

"Vicky!" The vampire tried. "Here you've got to help me, there's these nutters..."

"Derek, why have you got Sir Integra's smell all over you? Did you do something bad to her?" Seras' face fell and her eyes flashed with dismay and anger. "I thought you were nice..."

Behind Dr Derek Davidson a cloud of bats fell into an Alucard-shaped heap. They were followed by three gently floating shapes. Over the edge of the roof came, at last, Sim and Davie. The psychopomps glared at each other across the rooftop.

"Give up, vampire." Cerys ordered. "You're outnumbered."

Derek laughed bitterly and turned to face her. "I really am, aren't I. God, yes." He looked around frantically for an escape route.

Muraki, now behind him, slid up to his back and closed a white hand around his neck. Derek twitched a little. Muraki tilted his head over Derek's shoulder at Alucard, revealing the malevolently gleaming blue eye.

"May I offeru yu a drink?" He asked.

Alucard threw back his head and let out a laugh that seemed to crack the sky open. Then, jaws open, he flew at the transgressor who had dared lay a hand on his master and devoured him undead with great gusto and guzzling.

Muraki looked down at the orgy at his feet and covered his face in mild distaste. "Sa.."

Everyone edged away from them and tried to ignore the noise.

"We wiz dealin' wi this!" Sim glared at Cerys and Gwyneth.

"Oh, yes, and what a wonderful job you were making of it now." Gwyneth spat back. Cerys laid a hand on her shoulder. "If you'd just let us talk to Sir Hellsing, we could have avoided all this stupid mess."

"Sergeant Armstrong." Integra said, in a voice so cold it actually served to distract from Alucard's rampant guzzling. "Am I to take it that you have not been entirely straight with me?"

Sim looked down, embarrassed. "Aye, ma'am. We's noat actually RAMC officers."

"I should say so! And what else besides, may I ask?! Presumably you too are members of this spirit police?"

"Annwn, aye." Sim agreed.

"We din't think Cerys and Gwyneth'd mek reet good soldiers fer the op." Davie said.

"There was a bit of a row about who'd get to do it back at HQ." Cerys interjected. "It should've been us since it's our area. In the end Arawn...he's the boss... got angry and told us all to just get on with it."

Integra quietly took out a cigar, lit it, and took a deep puff. She stood with her arms folded. "What a fiasco." She looked across at the white man, who was still watching Alucard with great amusement. "Doctor Muraki?"

He smiled at her. "_Herushingu-sama_?"

"Do you intend to leave the country as soon as this convention is over?"

He nodded, once. It was more of a small bow.

"And do you intend to cause any trouble whilst you remain here?"

"_Iie_. No, _Herushingu-sama. _I have hado muchu ekusitoment for zisu visito." He looked back at Alucard, who was unfolding upwards, smeared with blood.

"Very well. I shall take that as your word of honour." Integra said, exhaling a long plume of smoke into the sea breeze. "And rest assured, should you break it, you will find yourself facing my servants, who will not, I assure you, be offering you drinks."

Seras smiled, cheerfully.

Alucard leered, his chin smeared with the remnants of Dr Davidson.

Muraki bowed again. "I underustando, _Herushingu-sama._" And with a nod to Alucard, he dissolved into a cloud of white feathers.

Integra turned to the four psychopomps. "As for you people." She frowned. "The next time, you wish to involve Hellsing in one of your operations, I suggest you have the courtesy to A)Give us a full briefing on the entire situation and B)Sort out any disputes you may have amongst yourselves beforehand." With that, she span on her heel and marched off.

There was a pause.

"Alucard. Seras. Help me down off this roof immediately, please."

Alucard chuckled. Seras hurried over to Sir Integra to give her a hand

The clouds began to clear over Cardigan Bay and the fresh wind over Cader Idris blew the rain away into the dripping Welsh hills, and what was left of Dr Derek Davidson over the side of the pier into the water, leaving a nasty smear down the side of the Amusement Arcade. Seagulls shrieked and wheeled in the air and the rain on the grey rooftops of Aberystwyth glittered. As the fine operatives of Hellsing made their exit, Sergeant Graham and Sergeant Armstrong clicked their heels together and gave them a salute as crisp as the morning air.


End file.
